Tag sieben (Day 7): Dachau
“Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts. Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one's lifetime.” -- Mark Twain, The Innocents Abroad/ Roughing It
E: Hallo! We began our day by taking the S-Bahn to Dachau, the concentration camp. Germany’s railway systems are noticeably cleaner than those in the other destinations we’ve visited. The residents, on the whole, are a hardworking, tidy people. Not only did we learn a lot about the locals, but also learned quite a bit about the American tourist that Europeans despise. I noticed him on the bus to Dachau, actually, everyone noticed him. He was a real-life version of Clark Griswold, except he wasn’t funny. His obnoxious voice boomed loudly above the appropriate and polite volume level on a public transit system. Boy, did he know it all, as he spouted “Di-a-Do” in a reference to The Sound of Music.’s “Do- Re-Mi.” BRO, you’re giving us a bad rap here.
K: Arriving at Dachau memorial site, we signed up for an English-led tour of 2-3 hours. Our tour guide was a native German, not only extremely prepared with history, but also shared personally from his memories of the war. His father had served in the German army fighting the Russians. He shared how his father’s generation did not speak of the war afterwards and how he had tried repeatedly to ask his father questions, but to no avail. Our guide also shared how his own children did not have a personal connection to the war and its tragedies, only studying the events as history in school. Our guide brought a portfolio of copies of documents from the time of the war, he went into great detail about life in the camp and made the whole experience very real for us. It was truly moving and I was especially glad that Elizabeth and I had chosen to come here.
E: Berndt passionately expressed the need for the students of this world to learn and understand the horrors of the concentration camp so that history is never, ever repeated. We need to feel their pain. As we walked through the gate of the entrance, Berndt pointed out that the words “Arbeit Macht Frei” mean “Work makes you free.” Every prisoner walked under those mocking words, how could they accept it? But how could they not? They were treated like animals, forced to live in inhumane conditions. Can you even call it living? The guards closed the windows and heated the barracks up in the summer and opened the windows during the winter. They were starved, beaten, experimented on, worked to death, and color-coded by their previous status in society. Thousands were stuffed into buildings that were made to hold a few hundred. I walked through the haunting hallways with a heavy heart; it was ironic that the sun was shining on that day. They deserve clouds. At the end of the tour, we had the chance to enter the gas chambers. The silence was eerie as I stepped into a place of death. I mourned for the innocent lives taken. I mourned for the families who lost their loved ones. I mourned for the townspeople of Dachau who were forced to watch the smoke rise up from the chambers and forced to pretend as if nothing was wrong. I mourned for Berndt’s father and his vow of silence. After we walked out, I thanked Berndt for his extraordinary words and even took a picture with him. He is someone I will never forget.
K: Our visit to Dachau had taken only half the day, so we decided to rent bicycles upon our return to Munich and see the city on wheels. Munich is well-designed for bicycle traffic; in addition to bike lanes, they even have stop lights designed for cyclists. The cycle shop gave us a map and highlighted a circle tour to take in the high points of the city. We spent quite a bit of time in the huge English Garden, taking in everything from the “surfers” in the shallow river to the imbibers at the Chinese Beer Garden. What a curious place! Again, the weather was sunny and warm, so we enjoyed our bikes until about dark. Returning to the Hotel Blauer Bock, we changed clothes and headed back out immediately for another authentic Bavarian dinner – tonight it would be Weisswurst (white sausage) for me and meatballs for Elizabeth, at Der Pschorr near Viktualienmarkt -- again, only steps from our hotel.
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Our Favorites:
K: Seeing Dachau up close was worth a dozen courses in history.
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E: Our guide at Dachau was incredibly informative and gave me a personal picture of German history from a completely different standpoint than I had ever considered.
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